Has Anyone Ever Told You?
by Momo Taishou
Summary: Gibbs reminisces about Paris in an effort to tell Jenny how he feels. Jibbs fluff


Finally, I have the time to type up an idea!

I thought my first new idea to get on paper would be a Tiva, but it's a Jibbs. Go figure.

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Has Anyone Ever Told You…

I am standing outside of the Director of NCIS's office, not quite sure what to do; or, more accurately, what to say. I have been standing here thinking for a while now. Usually I would just barge in and rant about the problems my team is facing in our latest case, implying a demand that she drop everything else and solve those problems. But not today.

I have never been good with words, and that is probably part of the reason why I seem to piss so many people off. I am sure it is also why I have spent months thinking of the right words to say, though for a while I did not even realize I was. So I stand outside her office door and have no words to speak now that I am here.

What made me start thinking about these words I cannot come up with was actually a day with Hollis Mann. We were at the batting cage together when she said: "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a cute ass?" I was caught off guard, distracted, causing me to miss the pitch as my thoughts wandered along this rhetorical question. I pretended not to be affected, but inwardly I could not help myself as my thoughts raced all the way back to a morning in Paris; a morning with _her_.

_I stood, leaning against the window of our hotel suite, daydreaming while the beautiful landscape filled my eyes. Every once and a while she would look over from her window on the adjacent wall and say something that my mind refused to register. The target was walking along the streets below our room, but for once I did not care. I could not stop wishing that he would just run out of our sights, out of our minds, until tomorrow when we would observe him again. _

_After what seemed like hours, Jen walked over to me and took the binoculars from my hand._

"_Daydreaming, Jethro? How unlike you." She said before smirking and wrapping her arms around me._

_She had (and still has) that unique brand of sarcasm that I could never formulate a response to, though she does not use it as much anymore. I offered her a glass of bourbon which she accepted after a short jab about my drinking habits and a comment that it was only eight o'clock in the morning. She then turned to soak in the view I had been enjoying just minutes before and I began pouring her a glass, trying hard to concentrate on the bottle rather than her, but it proved to be a difficult endeavor. As anyone who has met her will tell you, she has the uncanny ability to draw people's attention without even trying, then with a few words and subtle actions have them in her grasp completely. She would cater her actions and words to that specific person to wrap them around her finger, and I am not ashamed to say I have never been immune to that charm. It is a large part of what makes her irresistible to me. The one disadvantage that I found, though it always turned into something good in the end, was her timing. This specific morning was one of those times. _

_The bourbon almost reached the filling point of the glass when she turned from her place at the window and out of the blue, said: "You know, you have a really cute ass."_

_I just stared at her, those deep green eyes, full of mischief; her mouth, curled into an adorable little smirk; the rest of her beautiful face. It was only when she pointed it out to me that I realized the glass had overflowed and the rest of the bottle of bourbon had spilled onto my hand and the floor. I gave her a dirty look, though she saw right through it like I knew she would. She took the glass from my hand and set it on the table, then started to lick the bourbon off of my hand. That completely sent me off the edge and the annoying timing of her comment, as usual, turned into an exhausting day inside our hotel room._

I grinned to myself as the memory replayed in my head after all these years. I knew her feelings had changed since then and she no longer felt the same way about me as she did in Paris, and as I have always felt about her even since then. But I had to tell her, no matter the consequences. The only problem was my lack of words to express these feelings.

I have never been good with words, and that is probably part of the reason why I seem to piss so many people off. I am sure it is also why I have spent months thinking of the right words to say, though for a while I did not even realize I was. So I stand outside her office door and have no words to speak now that I am here.

Then I realize I do not need words. Just like in Paris, actions speak louder. I walk past Cynthia, who has pretty much given up trying to stop my rampages past her desk, and pull open the door labeled 'Director Sheppard'. She looks up at me before standing and moving to the front of her desk, obviously expecting a series of complaints followed by a heated argument as usual.

What she did not expect was for me to pull her close and kiss her with all the passion in the world. What I did not expect was for her to kiss back.

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So, what did you think? Fluffy, cheesy? I got the hiccups writing this. Seriously!

I would love a review!


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